


Stonewall, 1969

by MagnetoTheMagnificent



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Genderfluid Crowley (Good Omens), Historical References, LGBTQ Themes, She/Her Pronouns for Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:27:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24508423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagnetoTheMagnificent/pseuds/MagnetoTheMagnificent
Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale have a discussion about protesting in the midst of the Stonewall uprising
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Kudos: 24





	Stonewall, 1969

**Author's Note:**

> This was written during the Black Lives Matter Protests of May/June 2020. Never forget: Stonewall was a riot.

Crowley squinted through the smoke. Shouting and screams buzzed in her ears like angry wasps. Her claws curled around the brick in her hand. Her glasses were cracked, and she threw them off. Snake eyes glowed an angry, sulphurous yellow as she hurled the brick through the boarded up window.  
The demon had no time to react when something hard hit the back of her head.  
She heard someone yell her name, and then the world went dark.

"Crowley! Please wake up!"  
The riot was a background noise now, and Crowley slowly opened her eyes.  
As her vision came to focus, she saw a familiar face, a face she hadn't seen since 1967. Was she dreaming?  
"Oh, Crowley, thank Heavens," the voice heaved a sigh of relief, then turned stern.  
"What the Hell are you doing in New York?!"  
Crowley rubbed the back of her head, trying to register the voice.  
"New York, I'm in New York…" she slurred, and then realization hit her. "Stonewall! The coppers! I have to get back there!" she gasped.  
The demon struggled to get onto her feet, but was held down.  
"Crowley, I'm not letting you go back there."  
"Aziraphale, please don't stop me," Crowley begged, trying to push the angel away.  
"Please, Crowley, I know it's your nature to incite violence, but please, just for once-"  
"My nature?! You think this about my bloody nature??" the demon sputtered.  
"This is about people who have been oppressed too long, Angel, people who are finally standing up for themselves, finally fighting back. I would think you as a Principality would understand that."  
Aziraphale pursed his lips together.  
"I fully understand the situation, Crowley, I just don't want you to get hurt. There must be some way, some way that doesn't involve…. rioting," he said lowly.  
"Angel, this is history in the making. Sometimes, you need to rise up. You need to throw off your chains," Crowley implored, standing.  
"You remember David, right?"  
Aziraphale nodded.  
"What about Jesus? Whole turntables thing at the Temple?"  
Crowley continued.  
"I also remember the Bastille, may I remind you."  
"Okay, so that one was a bit a of a mess," she admitted, "but that's humanity. The humanity I- and you- fell in love with."  
"I'm not saying this is wrong, Crowley-" Aziraphale began.  
"Then what? Why are you even here, Aziraphale?" Crowley demanded.  
The angel bit his lip, trying not to burst into tears. What he wanted to say was 'I love you, Crowley, and I don't want you to do something stupid, and I'll never see you again,' but he couldn't bring himself to say those words. Those damned words. Instead, he was silent.  
"I'm going back out there, angel. Humanity needs me," Crowley told him, materializing a pair of sunglasses.  
"History is being made, whether or not you join in."  
She put on her sunglasses, and stormed out into the fray.  
Aziraphale watched her disappear into the crowd.  
"Oh, bugger it all," he mumbled to no one in particular.  
He clenched his fists, then marched out of the alleyway, and into the future.


End file.
